


Lathered

by Lyledebeast



Series: Lathered [1]
Category: Robin Hood (BBC 2006)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Chest Shaving, Hand Jobs, M/M, Nipple Play, very brief mentions of canon but no major spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-25
Updated: 2015-10-25
Packaged: 2018-04-28 03:20:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5075845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lyledebeast/pseuds/Lyledebeast
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Guy sends for Allan to help him shave his chest.  Both of them get caught up in the moment, and smuttiness ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lathered

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'd. All mistakes are mine. All characters are the property of the BBC and Tiger Aspect Productions.

Allan was almost ready to undress and go to bed when one of Guy of Gisborne’s guards delivered the message that he was summoned to his master’s room. Throughout the long, torch-lit walk through the castle’s corridors, Allan grumbled to himself inwardly. Who did Gisborne think he was? Expecting Allan to obey any whim, at any time, just because he paid him for it. It was at times like these that he missed the gang most. He may never have entirely fit in, but at least he was treated as an equal most of the time. He was certainly never hauled out of bed without being told why. Guy, however, was infuriating. In addition to constantly pressuring him for more information about Robin Hood to feed the Sheriff, and it was growing increasingly difficult to keep the gang’s best secrets safe, Guy was assigning him the most menial tasks: taking his leather to be cleaned, bringing the water for his bath, demanding Allan to make his reports while he was in said bath. It was annoying. It was demeaning. It was very, very distracting; Allan had memorized every detail of Guy’s coat of arms, which hung on the wall behind his tub, afraid of being caught looking anywhere else.

When he reached the partially open doorway, he was unsurprised to see Guy shirtless, spread out across the center of his bed. He knocked, and Guy answered with his usual, terse “It took you long enough.”  
Allan barely restrained an impulse to slam the door behind him as he walked into the room. He had no patience with his nonsense tonight. “Look, Giz. I really don’t think Robin Hood . . .” He trailed off as Guy rolled his eyes towards the ceiling in irritation. For the first time, Allan noticed that Guy’s chest was wet and spotted with lather and the small table next to his bed was covered with a towel, lotion, and a basin of water. Upon closer inspection, he saw that Guy was holding a straight razor in his hand.  
“What I wouldn’t give for one day that I didn’t have to hear that wretched name,” Guy growled.  
Allan was baffled. If Guy didn’t want to discuss Robin, why on earth did he send for him? He was just opening his mouth to ask as much, when Guy held out the razor to him.  
“Sit down on the bed and shave me,” he ordered.

Allan froze, dumbfounded. He had performed many personal tasks for Guy, but he’d never been told to touch him before, and the thought made him almost twitch with nervousness, and perhaps just a hint of excitement. Still, he took his place on the bed by Guy’s side.

As soon as he picked up the razor, his hand started to tremble visibly. He attempted to swallow the lump in his throat: “Come on, Allan, get it together,” he thought to himself. He took a deep breath and gripped the handle with the sharp edge of the blade facing outward and moved towards Guy’s chest. Fortunately, Guy had already done most of the work. His skin was damp and bare through the middle of his chest from collar bone to sternum and below his navel as far down as Allan could see before the pale skin disappeared into his black cotton trousers. The lather was mostly concentrated in foamy patches around and a little above Guy’s nipples. “The most difficult part,” Allan considered bitterly, trying to dismiss his growing conviction that Guy had done this on purpose, waited until he’d set up his shaving equipment beside the bed and then summoned Allan to torment him. The bastard. Allan’s lips thinned in consternation as he pressed his fingers high up on Guy’s pectoral muscle to pull the skin taut. He pressed the razor’s edge against the skin and drew it upwards in short, quick strokes. Perhaps this wasn’t so bad, Allan thought with relief as he adjusted the position of his fingers and drew the razor upwards again. 

By the time he had finished the top half of Guy’s chest, Allan’s heart rate had slowed and he was almost beginning to enjoy the smooth repetition of the razor gliding over skin and then dipping into the basin of water next to the bed. Sitting back to observe his progress, he saw that the only remaining lather circled Guy’s nipples closely, thinned so much now that the pink nubs, hardened from the chill in the room, were visible through the foam. Allan pressed his thumb a couple of inches above the left one and lowered the edge to touch just outside the areola. Guy inhaled suddenly and Allan’s gaze snapped to his face. The pale blue-grey eyes were still fixed on the ceiling, but Allan thought he could see tension lines forming between his eyebrows and a slight blush beginning to tint his cheeks. Allan’s heart began to speed up again, and he decided to finish quickly. He moved his the fingers stretching Guy’s skin after each stroke of the razor, getting as close to the nipple as he could without actually touching it, but by the time he finished Guy’s chest was rising and falling at a noticeably faster pace. He look up again and saw that Guy’s eyes had closed to mere slits. “He’s enjoying this,” Allan realized. 

The thought was new, but far from unpleasant. Even though Allan knew that all of Guy’s undressing in front of him was simply to remind him of his place, to show him that Guy did not consider him an equal, he had always enjoyed the view, provided Guy was looking elsewhere. He couldn’t stop himself from wanting to touch as well as see. When Guy first told him to shave him, Allan thought this was just another case of treating him like a servant, but now he was not so sure. Maybe Guy, for all his surliness, craved Allan’s touch as badly as Allan wanted to give it. This was still probably a test, but what kind of test? Allan looked down and saw that only one tiny spot of foam was left on Guy’s nipple, so small and insignificant that it would normally just be wiped away with a towel once the shaving was complete. Instead, Allan flicked it off with the blunt side of the razor and then brushed it deliberately over the hard nub. 

The effect on Guy was immediate. He gasped audibly, and when Allan glanced at his face his thin lips were parted and his eyes open wide. Allan froze in place. If Guy had really only wanted his chest shaved, this would be the time to say so, but he remained silent. Emboldened, Allan turned his attention to the other nipple. This time, when the razor had cleared the area around it of hair and foam, Allan brushed the blunt side over it first in one direction, then in the other. Guy moaned softly and then bit down on his lower lip as if trying to take it back. Allan’s pulse pounded in his ears and between his legs his cock gave a little twitch; this was going better than he expected. But he wanted to be absolutely sure, so he asked, “You’re not sensitive, are you, Giz?” 

Right away, he regretted it, because all signs of pleasure disappeared from Guy’s face to be replaced by his customary scowl. “No. What are you talking about?” he replied. Allan looked away and felt the blood rushing to his cheeks; he was embarrassed, yes, but also indignant. There was no way Guy was faking that reaction, so why lie about it? When he faced him again, though, he saw that he was not the only one feeling embarrassed. Guy was not looking at him, and the soft blush from before had spread from the tops of his cheeks into his hairline. Noticing that the effect of his work was still apparent on Guy’s chest, Allan gathered his courage and asked, “But your nipples are so hard. Are you cold?” Glancing back at Allan, as though surprised by the question, Guy replied, “Well, of course. I’m wet. It’s not exactly balmy in here.” He paused, uncertainly, then added, “and you can’t seem to stop touching them.” Allan felt himself blushing too at this accusation. Guy didn’t seem to be angry, so he decided to be a little braver. 

Shifting closer to Guy on the bed, he asked, “Do you want me to warm you up?” This time, Guy smirked. “You want to, don’t you? Don’t think I don’t see you watching me when I change, or when I’m having a bath.” Taken aback by his bluntness, Allan felt anger welling up inside him again: “Don’t think I don’t know that’s why you’re doing it in front of me!,” he snapped, surprising even himself. “Now you’ve done it,” he thought, expecting Guy to call for the guards any second. Instead, though he raised his eyebrows at Allan’s daring, he lay on his back in the center of the bed the way he was while he was shaving him. Allan hesitated for a moment, admiring the view unrestrainedly. “Well?” Guy asked. “What are you waiting for?”

Allan swallowed and tried to calm the nervousness battling desire in his stomach. He sat on the bed so close to Guy that his hip pressed against the taller man’s, picked up the lotion beside the basin and poured a liberal amount into the palm one hand, spreading it between his palms evenly. He leaned in and placed a hand on either side of Guy’s chest. Noticing that his skin did feel a little cool to the touch, Allan began to rub up and down. Guy relaxed into the touch, but made no other response. Just as Allan began to consider reaching for the towel as a more effective means of warming the smooth skin, his fingers widened just enough to allow one of Guy’s nipples to catch between his knuckles, Guy pressed his head back against the pillow and closed his eyes. Allan paused for a minute and slightly spread the fingers of his other hand. When he tugged both of his nipples gently in the same way, Guy moaned and arched his chest up against the talented hands, the pink blush darkening and spreading to his neck. Allan’s mouth went dry and he felt his cock start to swell inside his trousers. If he was this turned on just from touching Guy, how far gone must Guy be? He lowered his gaze from the chest he was stroking down the long, flat belly and settled on the prominent tent in the black material of his trousers. “Fuck,” Allan cursed softly under his breath, thankful that Guy was too lost in his own pleasure to notice. He moved his hands to take each nipple between a thumb and forefinger and roll them. Guy began to pant, and this time it was not his chest but his hips that jerked forward. Allan removed his hands completely and placed them on Guy’s belly just below his sternum. Guy met Allan’s gaze and whispered, “More,” and then, a couple of seconds later, “please.”

Allan grinned. “More where, Giz?” he asked. “Here?” He raised his right hand to Guy’s left nipple and brushed the pad of his thumb tenderly over it, smiling at the shudder this produced. “Or here?” He lowered his left hand to lightly stroke the smoothness of Guy’s belly just below his navel, teasingly close to his erection. Guy looked at Allan for a minute uncertainly, as if questioning his motives. Allan was not surprised; he suspected that most people who offered Guy sexual favors wanted something in return. He probably did, but at that point he was so caught up in giving the man pleasure that he had no idea what it might be. Rather than replying, Guy lifted his hips and pulled his trousers down, kicking them off completely and dropping them next to the bed. Clearly unembarrassed by his nudity, he leaned back on his elbows and watched Allan expectantly.

If Allan had appreciated the view before, he positively gaped at it now. He had expected Guy’s cock to be big but it took him by surprise that he would find it so attractive. He had seen cocks besides his own before, and even touched them, but that had been years ago, and he had written it off as lads working out their frustrations with each other in the absence of any willing women. And those teenaged cocks had been nothing like this. Guy’s was long and thick, flushed a deep pink and already beginning to leak from the slit. Allan wanted so badly to touch it, but felt fixed to the spot. He heard Guy clear his throat. When he looked up, he was greeted with one of the most self-satisfied smirks he had ever seen.

“Well, Allan, are you going to touch it or just stare at it all night?” 

Allan fumbled for words: “Well, I . . . umm . . . uh.” He lowered his gaze to Guy’s erection again, which certainly did not make completing a sentence easier.  
“You’re not frightened, are you?”

The concern in Guy’s voice startled him out of his reverie. He looked up to see that the smirk had disappeared and, to Allan’s surprise, been replaced by a worried frown.  
“I just haven’t touched a man like that in a long time.”

Guy tilted his head slightly and raised his eyebrows. ‘Oh. So, you’ve done this before?”

Allan wasn’t sure how to respond. Was this a veiled thread? It would certainly be hypocritical for Guy to expose him as a sodomite when he was lying there, hard as a hickory knob, waiting for Allan to touch him, but he wouldn’t put it past him.

Too impatient to wait for an answer, Guy groaned in frustration. “Come on, Allan. It’s not going to bite you, but I might if you keep me waiting much longer.”

Somehow, this was just the encouragement he needed. He reached towards Guy and wrapped his hand snugly around the base of his erection. Guy sighed with pleasure and leaned his head back, eyes closed. Now that he was not being watched so intently, Allan grew bolder. He moved his hand up the shaft, then back down, repeating this motion until the mostly dry friction made Guy hiss more from discomfort than enjoyment. Remembering the lotion he had rubbed on Guy’s chest, Allan stopped long enough to pick it up and pour some more into his hand. When he gripped him again, the fluid layer allowed for a touch that was both smooth and precise and made Guy’s cock throb with desire. When Allan’s thumb stroked over his slit and against his frenulum, Guy let out a loud moan. He repeated the motion and a small gush of precome coated his thumb. He bit back a small moan himself, very much aware of his own cock hard in his trousers, needing attention.

“God, Allan,” Guy panted, “that’s so good. Stop.”

Allan felt a stab of disappointment and confusion, but did as he was told.

“What do you mean, ‘that’s so good. Stop?’”

“If you keep doing that, I’ll come.”

Allan was so perplexed he hesitated to respond. “Um, I’m not being funny, Giz, but isn’t that the whole point?”

Guy chuckled in a way that sent a little tremor down Allan’s spine. “Eventually, yes, but I’m not finished with you yet. Come here.”

The expression in Guy’s eyes was unreadable. They bore the same hard glint as when he was giving an order, but there was something softer and more inviting about his mouth. Allan moved closer and then Guy’s hands were on his chest, unbuckling his vest. “Hold on, what are you doing?” he asked, beginning to sweat nervously under his tunic. Seeing Guy naked was all well and good, but he wasn’t so keen to take his own clothes off.

“Evening the score. I don’t see why you should be wearing all these clothes when I’m naked.”

Allan started to reply that he didn’t see a problem, but decided against it. He allowed Guy to remove his vest, but when he took hold of the bottom of his tunic and began to lift it, Allan grabbed his wrist to stop him. “Look, Guy. I don’t know if I . . . “ Guy leaned in to cut his protests off with kiss. 

It was just a brief but firm press of Guy’s lips against his, but Allan was dumbstruck. In all his playing around with his friends in years past, he had never kissed another male. It was different than he’d imagined. He’d thought that Guy’s kisses would be forceful, like nearly everything else about the man, but instead he pulled back to wait for Allan’s reaction. Between the shock making him blush harder and the current of desire even such a short kiss ignited, Allan found it very difficult to concentrate. He felt a vague uneasiness about how he would think of this tomorrow, but a far more irresistible need to kiss Guy again. 

The next time, he met him halfway, relishing the smile he felt against his lips and the long fingers that pressed into his hair and stroked along his jawline. When Guy licked along the seam of Allan’s lips with the tip of his tongue, Allan opened his mouth to allow him more access. They broke the kiss only long enough for Allan to raise his arms and allow Guy to pull his tunic off completely. Guy wrapped his arms around Allan’s shoulders, lying back and pulling the smaller man’s body against his chest. They remained like this for a few more kisses until Allan pushed himself off of Guy to lie by his side, allowing himself more access to Guy’s body. He slid his hand down his belly and found his erection again, wrapping his fingers around it. Guy groaned into his mouth, and Allan tightened his grip, working him with more vigor than before. Soon, he was panting so hard than Allan thought surely he was about to finish and closed his hand around the head of his cock in expectation. Instead, he found himself gasping with surprise as Guy grabbed him by the shoulder, flipping him onto his back. He held Allan down and straddled his hips, pressing his knees against his ribs.

For a moment, Allan struggled, frightened by the loss of control. He hadn’t planned on this going so far. How much further would Guy want to go? His worries were quickly put to rest when Guy took hold of his own cock and began pumping it hard. Suddenly, Allan was thankful for the new position as it allowed him not only tantalizing glimpses of Guy’s wet, dark tip emerging from his fist but also the look on his face as he came, mouth wide open and eyes scrunched shut as pleasure overwhelmed him. 

Guy leaned forward to rest his weight on his palms as the tremors of his orgasm subsided, and lowered his head to look down at the thin white streaks with which he had marked Allan’s chest. Allan found the sensation of being come on less unpleasant than he might have expected, but as the semen on his chest began to cool he swallowed a groan of disappointment. He was still hard, of course, but now that Guy had reached his climax he would no doubt order Allan out of his room to go and take care of himself in the first dark corner he could find.

“So should I just, you know, clean up and . . .”Allan began awkwardly, stopping when Guy lifted his head to smile at him through his damp, dark bangs.

“What’s your hurry?” he asked, and when Allan only squinted at him in reply, he drug the tip of a finger over Allan’s right nipple, coating it with his come and then offering it to Allan to taste. Allan gasped at the sensation; his nipples were almost as responsive as Guy’s. But he hesitated at the proffered finger until his gaze moved to Guy’s face. His pupils were still dilated from his release but his eyebrows were raised in an expression of curiosity and excitement unlike any Allan had seen there before. Instinctively, he felt there was something important riding on his next move, though he had no idea what it might be. Not giving himself a chance to overthink, Allan wrapped his lips around the tip of Guy’s finger and sucked. 

Before he could decide if he enjoyed the taste or not, Guy’s mouth was on his again, kissing him deeply until Allan was short of breath. He was so wrapped up in the taste and feel of Guy that when he ended the kiss Allan pressed his lips against the side of his neck. Encouraged by a soft moan from Guy, Allan continued planting kisses down to his shoulder and across his collar bone. He was so absorbed in mapping this new territory that he barely noticed when Guy began to work open the lacings at the front of his trousers. Only when Guy reached inside to wrap his hand around Allan’s aching cock and gently pull it free did Allan groan and lie back to watch the proceedings. 

His excitement mixed with a sigh of relief as Guy slipped back his foreskin with his thumb, but he hardly expected what happened next. Instead of stroking him as Allan thought he would, he got off of the bed, took hold of Allan’s hips and pulled him sideways until his legs were hanging off the side. Spreading Allan’s thighs, Guy knelt between them and lowered his head to take his cock into his mouth. Allan cried out with shock and pleasure, arching his back and attempting to thrust up into Guy’s mouth until he held his hips down with his powerful hands. With all his anxieties completely forgotten, he could think only of the pressure building low in his belly and the intoxicating sight of Guy’s dark head bobbing between his legs. He came a few minutes later, gripping the bedclothes hard in both fists, and muttering a string of curses as Guy swallowed around him. 

As Allan stretched, boneless with exhaustion, on his bed, Guy stood up and tucked his cock back into his trousers. As he looked down at him, he licked a stray trickle of come from one corner of his mouth, humming with satisfaction.

“You have a filthy mouth, Allan.”

Allan smiled lazily and replied with the first thought that came into his head: “Well, so do you, now.”

Guy chuckled a little at this as he began to collect the shaving supplies. He dipped the straight razor into the now cold water and wiped it clean with towel before returning it to its sheath. He lifted the basin and, crossing to the window, dumped it out. Remaining on his back, Allan found just enough energy to raise himself onto his elbows by the time Guy returned to the bed.

“Don’t get too comfortable,” Guy said as he looked down at him, a little bit of the stern tone returning to his voice.

This snapped Allan back to reality. He had gotten so caught up in touching and tasting Guy that for a moment he had forgotten the true nature of their relationship: the Master at Arms and his boy, the outlaw turned informer, who now informed the outlaws about him in turn. And yet that same Master at Arms had just taken his cock into his mouth, and what was more, had enjoyed it. Allan frowned at these thoughts, the last remnants of pleasure from his climax melting away. How would this new knowledge of Guy’s body and his desires change things between them? How would it change his loyalties to Robin and the gang? Did it even have to change anything? These were all questions Allan was far too tired and confused to answer, and as he looked up at Guy, he saw his own weariness mirrored in his eyes.

“Business as usual tomorrow, eh?” he asked in resignation. 

“Of course. Why, what did you expect?”

Allan looked around to see his and Guy’s clothing strewn around the bed and down at the semen, now dry and making him itch, on his chest. When he reached for the towel by the bed, though, Guy intercepted it, and began scrubbing at the center of Allan’s chest, sitting down on the bed for better access. Allan smiled at that; for all Guy’s imperiousness and attempts to seem indifferent, he did want to take care of him. Allan reached to cup Guy’s jaw with his fingers, brushing his thumb over his stubbled cheek. When Guy looked at him, Allan said, “A lot has happened tonight that I didn’t expect, but that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t do it again.” And he leaned in to kiss Guy lightly on the mouth.

As he ended the kiss, Guy opened his mouth to reply, but no words came forth. Allan wondered if he had said too much, or if Guy was worried he’d shown too much of himself already. He decided not to press him for answers tonight, and instead retrieved his tunic and vest and put them back on without saying another word. But as Allan made the trip back to his room, it was with a lighter, more hopeful heart than before.


End file.
